Sunday, May 24, 2009


I admit it, I have a thing for old-fashioned flowers. It's the heritage, the sturdiness, the fragrance (sometimes), the ease, the fact that generations of gardeners have known and loved certain plants.

Forget-me-nots fall into this category. I purchased my first myosotis 20 or more years ago when we lived in New Jersey, and carted one plant to Connecticut where they've dutifully propogated themselves and bloomed enthusiastically in my garden ever since. Mostly they produce the familiar tiny blue flowers with yellow centers, but occasionally they surprise me with pink blooms.
But I manage my myosotis. They may not realize it, but I do. Since they're self-sowers, it's imperative to edit. I allow them to bloom pretty much wherever they wish in my mostly shady garden; as an edger, in the midst of the azalea bed, among the emerging hosta and astilbe. They prefer moist locales, but it's interesting where they'll pop up. I love the wash of blue they impart to most of my beds and the fact that they'll bloom their ever-loving heads off for three to four weeks, depending on weather.
But then.....I murder them.
Because, once past bloom, forget-me-nots become downright ugly. They turn into black, moldy, unsightly lumps in my beautiful gardens. So out they come. Yep, I rip 'em right out of their dandy little growing spots and compost the hideous things. The trick is, I wait until they're finished blooming to dispatch them. That way they've had plenty of time to cast seed and guarantee their appearance next spring.

As you can see from the picture, forget-me-nots add an ephemeral beauty to the garden. I wouldn't be without them.
But I'm the Boss.

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